


Ultimate Reconnection and Established Reality

by onemechanicalalligator



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Coming Out, M/M, Marathon Sex, Reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:41:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26498803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onemechanicalalligator/pseuds/onemechanicalalligator
Summary: Troy comes home to Abed.
Relationships: Troy Barnes/Abed Nadir
Comments: 26
Kudos: 146





	Ultimate Reconnection and Established Reality

Abed answers the door and Troy’s there.

_Troy is there._

He hasn’t seen or heard from him in almost three years. Had no warning that he was coming home. Wasn’t sure he’d ever see him again. 

_And here he is,_ on Abed’s doorstep, with a beard, and hair a little longer, but the look on his face tells Abed that he’s still the same Troy.

Abed steps aside and motions for Troy to come in. He closes the door behind him, and Troy sets his bag carefully on the floor. Abed opens his mouth to speak, but Troy interrupts him.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and swallows. “For not calling, or writing, or getting in touch. For not letting you know I was okay. For not telling you I was coming home.”

“You _didn’t_ come home,” Abed blurts out. “This is LA. This isn’t home.”

“Abed…” he says, and stops. He starts again. “Buddy, wherever _you_ are...that’s my home.”

Abed raises an eyebrow. He has so many things he’d like to say, and they’re all jumbled up in his head, and he can’t quite grasp the thread of any particular one to pull it out. He opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again.

“But you had to leave so you could be one person,” Abed says quietly. “How are you one person if I’m your home?”

“I think I realized on my trip that I was _already_ one person,” Troy says. “And our home is together. We...belong together.”

“We belong together.”

Tears fill Abed’s eyes as he says it, and he blinks rapidly before they can fall. His voice is thick and heavy. He clears his throat, but doesn’t speak again.

“Do you, um...agree?” Troy asks tentatively. “Because I know I left, and then I didn’t contact you, and then I came back without warning, and if you need me to leave, I can…”

“Don’t leave,” Abed says, more fiercely than he means to. He clears his throat again. “I mean. Please. Don’t...don’t ever leave again.”

Troy nods, and Abed can tell he’s blinking a lot, too. 

“I don’t plan on it,” Troy says. He takes a step towards Abed and pauses, waiting.

Abed clears the rest of the space between them and wraps his arms around Troy, and a second later Troy flings his arms around Abed’s waist, and they both squeeze as tightly as they can, like they could meld themselves together if they just tried hard enough.

“I missed you,” Abed mumbles into Troy’s shoulder.

“I missed you too,” Troy says, his mouth pressed against Abed’s chest. “I’m so sorry, Abed, I’m so fucking sorry I left.”

“Don’t,” Abed says. “It’s not… That doesn’t matter right now. Just be with me. Please.”

Troy makes a noise that sounds like a sob, and Abed pulls him even closer, and they stand like that for what feels simultaneously like five seconds and five hours. Like not enough, and longer but still not enough. Like they could stay that way forever.

When they finally let go, Abed pulls Troy to the couch, and they sit down and turn on the TV. For the first time in his life, Abed doesn’t care about the show--doesn’t even know what show is on. All he can pay attention to is Troy, the way he looks, the way he laughs, the way he gestures and moves. 

It doesn’t feel real. Abed doesn’t feel like he _deserves_ this, to have his best friend back in his life, in his home, presumably to stay. He’s overwhelmed by everything, and he realizes this at the same time that he realizes he can hear the electricity humming from the television, and the buzz of the power strip next to the couch. And once he notices those things, he starts noticing _everything,_ the feel of his clothes against his skin, the smell of the dish soap in the kitchen.

He stands up gingerly and without warning.

“You okay, buddy?” Troy asks, and he must recognize the look on Abed’s face, even after all these years, because he keeps his voice quiet and even.

“I need to go sit in my closet,” Abed whispers. “You can come if you want. Just please don’t touch me.”

Troy nods and follows him into the bedroom, where he picks up his weighted blanket, and then into his small walk-in closet. Underneath where Abed’s clothes are hanging is the little nest of fluffy pillows and soft-looking blankets that Abed put together when he moved in, precisely for situations like this. Sometimes it’s enough to keep a full-on meltdown from happening.

He curls up with a few pillows under his head and covers himself with the weighted blanket. Troy sits against the wall perpendicular to him and pulls the door shut, and then they’re in pitch darkness and total silence.

Abed doesn’t move for a long time, waiting for things to calm down, for his head to stop pounding and his blood to stop fizzing and the panic that’s caught in his throat to disappear. It takes longer than he’d like, but eventually, it starts to settle down. When everything finally feels back to normal, he decides to try speaking.

“Sorry,” he says, and his voice sounds hoarse and crackly. 

“For what?” asks Troy’s disembodied voice next to him. “You know you don’t have to apologize for this.”

“I feel like I should be better by now,” Abed admits. “You’ve been gone so long, and probably grown and changed so much, and I feel like I just proved to you that nothing has changed for me. It’s embarrassing.”

“Abed,” Troy says, and Abed can’t read the tone of his voice. “First of all, I didn’t come here expecting you to be totally different. That would be crazy. Second of all, _I’m_ not totally different just because I spent a couple years on a boat. And third of all, you _are_ better! Are you kidding? I’ve never seen you get overwhelmed and...and keep it from turning into a meltdown like that. That was incredible. Your closet idea is incredible. You’re incredible.”

Abed draws in a sharp breath of air and then reaches out toward Troy. He brushes his shoulder, runs his hand down Troy’s arm, and then finally grasps his hand. Troy’s grip is solid and warm, and it grounds Abed even further. 

“I, um…” says Abed, struck with a sudden desire to test the waters a little. “I think we can come out of the closet now.” He holds his breath.

Troy lets out a panicked laugh. “Literally? Or, uh, metaphorically?” he asks, his voice cracking on the last word.

“Do you…have a metaphorical closet you’d like to come out of?” Abed asks carefully. “Or would you like me to go first?”

“No, I’m good,” Troy says, a little more confidently. “It’s more of a formality at this point, I think, anyway. This is probably a good time.” He pauses and takes a breath. “I’m gay. I kind of think you knew that, though.”

“I suspected,” Abed admits. “But I’m happy you felt comfortable telling me. I feel like you probably suspected this about _me,_ but I’m sexually attracted to both men and women.”

“I thought so,” Troy says. “Hey, maybe we really _can_ read each other’s minds.”

“That, or we just aren’t very subtle,” Abed says, wondering if Troy can hear the smile in his voice. “Want to come out of the _actual_ closet now?”

There’s a click, and Abed shuts his eyes as Troy pushes the door open. Abed opens his eyes again very slowly, adjusting to the light in his bedroom. Then he folds the soft blankets and stacks the pillows back in the corner of his closet and stands up. He carries the weighted blanket back over to his bed and sits down, patting the spot next to him. Troy sits.

“Troy, I--” Abed says.

“Look, Abed--” Troy says at the same time. 

They both laugh nervously. Troy scoots a little so he’s sitting right next to Abed, so their thighs are touching. Troy is looking in Abed’s eyes, and Abed is 86% sure he knows what Troy is thinking, but he’s not sure if he’s confident enough to do anything about it. He takes a breath and decides to go for it as Troy opens his mouth.

“Can I kiss you?” they both say at the same time, and then they both blink, and then they both laugh.

 _“Yes,”_ Abed says, leaning forward, and the second Troy’s mouth meets his, it really _does_ feel like coming home, like this is where he was always meant to be.

Troy’s lips are soft and warm and gentle, exactly how Abed always imagined them to be. He kisses the way he does everything else: full of joy and passion and emotion. Abed is consumed by Troy’s enthusiasm, the way he licks into Abed’s mouth, the way he breathes in short little gasps when he gets carried away, the way he keeps moving his hands, like he can’t wait to explore every part of Abed. They make out until they are both out of breath and wanting.

“Should I make lunch?” Abed asks, aware that his words are completely incongruent with the look on his face, his dark eyes and swollen lips.

“I guess,” Troy says uncertainly.

“I need a minute to regroup,” Abed explains. “I want this to be special. I want it to last. Is that what you want?”

“Yeah,” Troy says grumpily, and Abed looks at him curiously. “No, I mean, it really is,” Troy says, and now he’s smiling. “It’s just hard to remember _that_ when I feel like... _this.”_

“Fair,” Abed says, laughing. “When was the last time you had buttered noodles?”

Abed makes them lunch, and they eat in front of the TV, and again, Abed doesn’t watch it at all. When they’re done eating, Troy leans into Abed, resting his head on his shoulder and burrowing a little into his side. Abed drapes his arm around Troy and draws little designs with his fingers, first over Troy’s t-shirt, and later, under it. Troy is smooth and solid under Abed’s hand, and that helps him to believe that this is real.

Eventually they start kissing again, and Abed turns the TV off completely. He takes Troy’s hand and pulls him back into the bedroom, sits him down on the bed, and then goes over to a drawer and pulls out a tube of Astroglide and a box of condoms. He sets them on the nightstand and walks back to Troy.

“In case we need them eventually,” he says quietly.

 _“In case?”_ Troy hisses.

“I didn’t want to sound presumptive,” Abed says, grinning a little. _“For later._ Is that better?”

Troy nods, his face a mixture of pleading and delight. Abed sits down next to him.

“Where were we?” Abed murmurs. He puts a hand behind Troy’s head and another on his hip, and they start kissing again, and Abed thinks he could do this forever.

After a few minutes, Troy tugs on Abed’s sweater, and Abed looks up. 

“Would you be okay with us taking off some clothes?” Troy asks, and Abed nods enthusiastically.

Troy eases Abed’s sweater down off his shoulders, then runs his hands up and down his bare arms as though he’s never touched them before. _And maybe he hasn’t,_ Abed realizes, because Abed rarely goes out in short sleeves.

Then Troy puts his hands under Abed’s t-shirt, brushing across his sides, his abs, his spine. He moves them up and up and up until Abed is forced to break the kiss so Troy can pull the shirt over his head and arms. Abed does the same to Troy’s shirt, and they press against each other, warm skin to warm skin. They stop kissing for a moment and just hold each other, breathing hard.

Abed wishes he could pause this moment and keep it as a gif or a screenshot, something to refer back to whenever he feels a little cold, or a little lonely. He knows Troy called Abed his home, but he’s still not sure exactly what that means, logistically. He’s not sure how long he’ll have this, if it’s just for today, or for a few days, or forever.

“Are you okay?” Troy whispers, and Abed is pulled back into reality, into the boy he has in his arms, the one who feels soft and firm and rough and smooth, all at the same time.

“Yeah,” Abed breathes. “I got caught in my head. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Troy replies. “Is it okay that I pulled you back out?”

“It’s always okay,” Abed says. “You know I get lost sometimes.”

Troy nods, then moves back in and kisses him on each eyelid, then his nose, and then back to his mouth. He leans Abed back so that Troy is hovering above him, one knee beside his hip, the other between his thighs. He dips down to kiss his neck and his collarbones, and Abed shudders a little. He tries to hide it. Troy just smiles.

He lowers his hips a little, brushing his front gently against Abed’s, and Abed’s hips jerk up in response. He grabs a handful of the blanket in one hand and tries to let his breath out slowly, tries to keep from getting too worked up too quickly. Troy just smiles again.

Troy rocks against him a little harder, making him gasp, and Troy’s face goes slack, his mouth falling open. Abed reaches one hand up and places it on Troy’s ass, pulling him closer and squeezing just a little, just enough to get Troy to make a small noise, and now Abed’s the one grinning. 

They keep at it for a few minutes, just rocking and grinding, feeling each other grow harder, each trying to get the other one to break, each smile turning to an open-mouthed look of wonder, licking lips, mouthing words, whispering, _oh, oh, oh._

“Abed,” Troy gasps, and rolls off of him so he’s laying on his back next to him, just as Abed is about to lose control. “We should take a break.”

“You want it to last, too,” Abed gasps, and Troy nods. 

“I just...don’t want it to be over already,” he says shyly. “There’s just so much we haven’t even _done_ yet.”

Abed keeps his eyes wide open and bites his lip, tries not to imagine the things Troy is talking about, because he’s already hovering much too close to his breaking point. He takes a few deep breaths and tries to name episodes of _Cougar Town._

“What are you whispering?” Troy asks, placing a hand on Abed’s stomach. “Tom Petty songs?”

“I’m just trying not to…” Abed trails off. Troy’s touch isn’t helping. _Don’t Come Around Here No More. Two Gunslingers. Here Comes My Girl._

“Oh, fuck,” Troy says, one corner of his mouth turning up in a smile. “You were that close?”

“It’s okay,” Abed says. “It’s good. This is good. I just need a second.”

Troy removes his hand so he’s no longer touching Abed, which is disappointing, but also effective. They lay there for a while, silent.

“Are you staying here?” Abed finally asks, because he can’t take it anymore, and this seems like as good a time as ever. “And if so, for how long?”

“I’d like to stay,” Troy says. “If you’ll have me.”

“For a visit? For...longer than a visit?” Abed turns to look at him, his eyes wide, his heart pounding.

“Forever,” Troy says simply. “I’m rich now. We can get a bigger place. Or I can take over rent for this one. We _both earned_ that money. Is that...okay?”

“Forever,” Abed echoes. “Of course that’s okay.” He lunges over and kisses Troy hard on the mouth.

Troy responds by sliding a hand over to the front of Abed’s jeans and flicking the button.

“Is _this_ okay?” he asks quietly.

“Yes,” Abed says. “Yes, please do that.” He scoots closer to Troy.

Troy slowly undoes the button and unzips Abed’s jeans. Then he sits up and pulls them off, along with Abed’s socks, until he’s wearing nothing but underwear. 

_“God,”_ Troy says. “You look amazing.”

“My turn?” Abed asks, reaching over. 

“Uh-huh,” Troy says, turning a little to make it easier for Abed, who fumbles the button a few times before getting it open, then swiftly pulls his pants off and drops them on the floor.

“You’re perfect,” Abed groans. “I knew you would be.”

They roll back together, and every time they do this it gets more intense. The sensation when they touch again, bodies pressed completely together, this time almost fully undressed, is white hot and electric. They kiss like they’re starving, like they’re drowning, like they’re dying of a supervirus and the only cure is _making out with each other._

As if any of those incentives would even be necessary. They’re going to make out like this forever.

Abed hears a frantic whimpering sound, and he honestly can’t tell if it’s coming from him or Troy, but it doesn’t really matter. He paws at Troy’s underwear, pausing to wait for a muttered “yeah” from Troy, and then yanks them off. Then he pulls off his own, and tosses both aside.

Now it’s getting overwhelming, the sensations, not in a sensory overload way, just in a _I’m about to have sex with the person I’m in love with for the first time_ kind of way, and that’s when he realizes that Troy _doesn’t know._

“Troy,” he gasps, placing his hand over Troy’s, which is creeping up his thigh, and taking it in his own. 

He leans back a little and takes Troy’s other hand in his other hand.

“Are you all right?” Troy asks breathlessly.

“Yes,” Abed says quickly. “Yes, everything is fine. I love you, Troy.”

He says it looking into Troy’s eyes, naked on his bed, holding hands. He thinks he must be dreaming.

“I love you too, Abed,” Troy says quietly and reverently. “I love you so much.”

Now he _knows_ he must be dreaming.

“Is this real?” Abed whispers. “I don’t see claymation, and there’s no lava. This isn’t traumatic, so that’s probably why. But, still...can you promise me that this is real?”

“It’s real,” Troy says, leaning up and kissing him on the mouth. “This is the most real moment of my entire life.”

“I didn’t think I would ever get this,” Abed whispers. “This wasn’t where my character was slated to go. This is an unexpected twist and I’m not sure what to do with it.” He tilts his head and blinks at Troy. “There aren’t many movies where the boy gets the boy.”

Troy launches himself at Abed so quickly Abed almost doesn’t see the tears that are streaming down his face. He feels them, though, wet and slippery against his skin, and normally he would find a sensation like that extremely upsetting, but right now he doesn’t, because it’s Troy, it’s _him and Troy._

They hold each other for a long time, Troy making soothing sounds in Abed’s ear, Abed letting himself quietly fall apart and cry against Troy’s shoulder, because there’s just too much for him to store it all in his heart, some of it has to go somewhere. He thinks this might be the first time he’s cried in front of Troy.

When they do both stop crying, Abed takes Troy’s face in his hand and starts kissing the tear stains on his cheeks. They taste salty, and it makes Troy giggle a little bit. Troy doesn’t try to kiss away Abed’s tears, and Abed appreciates that. Instead, Troy runs his hands through Abed’s hair, smoothing it over and over, lingering at the nape of his neck, and that’s where he does press a kiss.

They fall back onto the bed and pick up where they left off, touching and tasting and stroking and moving until both of them are squirming and panting, and they both look at each other, wondering who’s going to interrupt this time.

No one does.

“Are you ready?” Abed asks.

“Yes,” Troy replies.

Abed takes the Astroglide from the nightstand and then scoots closer to Troy, motioning for him to turn over.

“Have you done this before?” he asks, before doing anything.

“A couple times,” Troy says. “You?”

“Yes,” Abed says, and doesn’t elaborate. He kisses Troy at the base of his spine. “Okay. Here we go.”

They talk softly like that the whole way through, they way they’ve been doing all day. Small murmurs of _okay?_ and _good?_ and _yes_ and _please._ Affirmations and words of affection. Constant communication, to make up for the communication they haven’t had for so long. 

Abed is careful and gentle as he opens Troy up, stretching him and stroking him, getting him ready, until he is _so ready,_ until he is babbling and humming and breathing hard, until he is _begging._ He whines when Abed slowly pulls his fingers out, and Abed kisses him again in that same spot on his spine, sucking a little this time.

“Ready?” he whispers, putting the condom on and applying more lube, and Troy moans in anticipation. Abed pushes in, his hands on Troy’s hips, trying to be as slow and tender as possible.

“Harder,” Troy gasps. “Please. More.” Abed obliges, pushing in further this time, establishing a rhythm. It feels fantastic, it feels incredible, it feels so good, it feels _too_ good, and then Abed is overwhelmed, and he stops.

“Sorry,” he says frantically. “I’m sorry, I--”

“Come here,” Troy says, and Abed pulls out, discards the condom, and curls up next to Troy.

“It was just too much. In the moment.”

“It’s okay, buddy,” Troy says. “We can take it slower.”

“I just need to chill for a minute,” Abed says. “Can you just hold me?”

Troy holds him close, clings to him, squeezes him tight. They roll over until Troy is on top of him and Troy just lays there, letting his body drape over Abed, providing pressure for him. After a few minutes, Abed takes a deep breath.

“Okay,” he says, and helps Troy to roll off of him. Abed puts two fingers under Troy’s chin and guides him into a kiss, and then they’re back to making out on his bed, which just in the last few hours has become the absolute epitome of safety and comfort. They kiss and touch and kiss and touch until Abed tells Troy he’s ready to try again.

“Are you sure?” Troy asks. “We don’t have to do this today.”

“I want to,” Abed says. “I promise.”

“Okay,” Troy says, turning over, and Abed gets himself ready, and this time it’s exactly the same only different, it’s still perfect and good but this time Abed knows what to expect from having sex with the person he loves, which turns out to be so very different from having sex with any other person.

They whisper and laugh and move together, and this time when Abed starts to lose himself, it isn’t to anxiety, it’s to the mindblowing orgasm that makes his head spin, makes his ears ring, makes all the times they stopped themselves this afternoon more than worth it.

Troy is wound up enough that it only takes him a couple of strokes to bring himself off after Abed comes, and Abed is happy to know that Troy is a screamer, that this was good for him, for _both of them._

They snuggle under the covers, Troy burrowing into Abed’s side, and again, Abed knows he can trust Troy, that this is real, this is happening, but it still feels like it’s too good and too perfect. Like this is something Abed isn’t meant to have.

_He begins to wonder if it’s possible that they really do deserve this._

He drifts off to sleep dreaming about the future.


End file.
